Nothing in my life
by Kathleen the great
Summary: *Just updated Saturday Feb. 16th!* Two very, very, very shocking chapters.
1. Perfection at it's best.

*Ok. Here is my new fic. I don't own 'Not Another Michael/Mia Story' anymore. Just so you all know, it isn't mine; so don't email me with complaints (not like there will be any, because the girl I gave it to is a better writer than myself) This chapter is going to be really small, so review and I'll make a new one!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the story, except for any characters NOT mentioned in the book, which aren't real people (if there is any in the future)*  
  
-At the loft, 12:00pm, January 3rd-  
  
Well.  
  
Well, well, well.  
  
Well, well, well, well.  
  
For once in my life, nothing is going wrong.  
  
I don't have to worry about school, because I did REALLY well on my mid terms.  
  
Especially World Civ., and Algebra, well, one can't help but gloat after doing THAT well in a course you thought you'd fail.  
  
I don't have to worry about Kenny, because, well, he dumped me. Of course, he thought that I like BORIS PELOWSKI. I don't like Boris Pelowski (in that way). Nor do I like Kenny (in that way). I like Michael in that way.  
  
I don't have to worry about the whole being-introduced-to-the-Genovian- masses thing. That went over fine. I think I might be looking forward to ruling over them. Not as much as I would if I could join Green peace, but really, who wants Sebastiano, the famous Genovian clothes designer to take over the crown.  
  
I can think of one person, and one person only. Grandmere. She loves Sebastiano. But Sebastiano probably wouldn't do a good job; his mind is on other things. Like what the new pink will be. I told him that I really think that orange will be the new pink, and I really think he thought that for a few days.  
  
Life is sweet.  
  
-10:pm, Lilly's house-  
  
I'm sleeping over at Lilly's house.  
  
Nothing new has happened.  
  
Literally.  
  
Nothing.  
  
I ………am…………so…………happy.  
  
You would be too if you were Frenching the guy of your dreams.  
  
Which, I happen to be doing. With extreme pleasure, might I add?  
  
Plus Maya's fish casserole was super. 


	2. Petitions and Lilly, what a match.

*The Response to the first chapter has been SO great that I believe it's time to write another!! A reminder, I don't own Not Another Michael/Mia story! I gave it away; I couldn't bear to write in it anymore! Thanks  
  
And Cyber-Guy, thanks for the review, but I think I'll delete it. And no, I'm not into that type of stuff. I HAVE a boyfriend, you know. *  
  
-Next Day-  
  
Four months ago I felt as if I had been alive for so long.  
  
Like I've been here, doing the same thing, day after day, week after week, and year after year. Trying to get a boyfriend, trying to get him to kiss me...trying to turn him vegetarian...trying to find similar interests...  
  
And then, when I got one, my first one, I didn't want him to kiss me, he was already vegetarian, and I got bored of all the Japanese Anime.  
  
Especially all the ones with girls in them, because all the girls in Anime seemed to have misplaced their bras.  
  
Then he dumped me, mind you, he thought I had it in for BORIS, (who is, by the way, totally cooler than I thought he was).  
  
So then, I hooked up with Michael. In my eyes, the Polaroid of perfection.  
  
So Grandmere thinks that he's not up to Royal Escort Material. I can improve his manners.  
  
They're much better then Kenny's, by far.  
  
With Michael, I don't feel embarrassed by anything he says. And I know that by the time he's up to those three special words, I'll be too.  
  
I spent my entire ride to Grandmere's picturing our wedding.  
  
We were in the middle of the rainforest, we were barefoot, and I was wearing a wonderful long off-white sleeveless dress. He wore a tux, without the bowtie or the vest. Our hair was messy, but beautiful at the same time.  
  
And I held wildflowers...and our rings were made from dried flowers.  
  
I bet Lars knew exactly what I was thinking about.  
  
It's funny, but when someone spends his or her entire day with you, (everyday, for three or four months); you can just tell they know what you're thinking.  
  
Lilly just stopped by.  
  
She's starting a new petition. At Barnes and Noble, (the one we're NOT banned from).  
  
On the weekend, we were there buying birthday presents for Tina, and the people at the checkout THREE TIMES over-charged her for it. She went back all three times, and on the third time her face was on fire, (not literally). She says that today's youth are being taken for granted. That today's youth aren't just the people you see on TV, getting busted for doing drugs and having sex in the back of cars (I know a small amount of people that own their own car in Manhattan, especially in Greenwich Village).  
  
She says that makes up a small fraction of today's urban youth. That Generation X'ers have to come out of their Neil Diamond coated shell and realize some of the positive contributions these days that inter-city kids have done.  
  
And not just help old ladies cross the street or raise funds for a run down library.  
  
Good stuff, like try to educate themselves outside of school (that crap infested hellhole, she calls it).  
  
So, I've been spending my time persuading Mr. G (FRANK! FRANK!! CALL HIM FRANK!!) to photocopy the petition, putting them in envelopes, and sending them to areas in desperate need of some shell-removal.  
  
Yep.  
  
My friend's a freak.  
  
Things to do:  
  
Finish stuffing envelopes.  
  
Stop thinking about Michael. 


	3. Special Guest, Special Guest, let's do t...

*OK, I'm updating again...this time with a SHOCKER! With a special guest star. And, I think, it's going to be a cliffhanger. You know what I'm sick of, though? When people start out every single Journal entry in their TPD fics with "OH MY GOD YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED!" I mean, it's okay once in awhile, but there are many, many other ways in which Mia begins her compilations of antagonism and distress! *  
  
-The next afternoon-  
  
Dearest Diary of them all,  
  
Yeah,  
  
Right.  
  
-That Night-  
  
I think I may die of boredom. I know that I hate such stressful times (say, right before I left for Genovia), but I am so bored. I wish something would happen.  
  
No, wait.  
  
I don't. I don't wish something would happen.  
  
However.... last time something happened, I ended up with Michael...  
  
Life doesn't get any better then dating the guy of your dreams. It just helps that he resembles Casper Van Dean, and lately I've been noticing a bit of someone familiar, can't put a name to the face, though.  
  
So, Mia. What else is new?  
  
Nothing.  
  
Absolutely nothing.  
  
-The Next Morning, Homeroom-  
  
Still nothing new.  
  
-Social Interactions -  
  
Yet again, nothing new  
  
I ever remembered my notebook.  
  
For once.  
  
-Geography -  
  
Someone.  
  
Please.  
  
-Home Ec.-  
  
I think I might be blind.  
  
-French Oral-  
  
Nope. Not blind.  
  
Still bored.  
  
-Lunch-  
  
Oh, My.  
  
I am so bored.  
  
On the other hand,  
  
I have P.E. next. That should be fun.  
  
-G&T-  
  
Yeah, P.E. Was fun. For a change. We did acrobatic Yoga. I think my PE teacher is getting really, really, really creative. Lilly's remonstration of the unjust use of common sports in which the same kids excel in and therefore receive the highest marks has been a success.  
  
Homework:  
  
Home Ec- Non-carnivorous recipe for Tuesday, so I don't have to make glazed chicken!  
  
Social Interactions-Definitions 1-11  
  
G&T-yeah, as if.  
  
French Oral- utilize les verbes conjugate dans les sentences, et practice parlent ils pour demaine.  
  
Geography- None  
  
-In the Limo-  
  
Well, nothing happened. I'm off to Princess Lessons. My first since after the Genovian introduction. I wonder what I'll learn.  
  
-On the way home, from Princess Lessons-  
  
I learned that Grandmere is just a bit uncanny with nothing going on.  
  
When I walked in her suite, she was sitting at the marble table talking with a Sebastiano look alike. Well, from the back. He had the signature ponytail, only he didn't have on leather pants. I assume he was wearing a fleece vest. I also assume that this is some famous Genovian Interior Decorator that we have to support otherwise he'll move to L.A.  
  
"Redecorate this, Redecorate that. No, no, no. Amelia's chamber in the palace simply did not suit her personality!"  
  
Then I went:  
  
"WHAT!?" I did think it was a bit fancy, but that's what I expected. I already knew what the rooms in the palace looked like, seeing as I've been there before on a tour. Little did I know that would be my residence after I graduate from college.  
  
Then she turned to me:  
  
"Oh Amelia, how nice it is to see you."  
  
Okay. Someone's had one too many Sidecars.  
  
I hoped then and there that my Dad didn't walk in because she'd probably start calling him Papa Cue ball again.  
  
"Now Amelia, Debbie and I were just deciding on what to do with your chamber at the palace, to, you know, `spice it up'."  
  
I was surprised she didn't shake her hips and arms in unison like a modern-day TV mom while saying the Spice It Up bit.  
  
And Debbie? This guy's name is Debbie, I thought.  
  
No, apparently, it's not.  
  
It was the famous Debbie Travis.  
  
I have one thing, and one thing only to say for that.  
  
Canadians are REALLY good fashion designers! 


	4. So sad....

*It's a reviewer thank you time! Thank you to Gothic Valley Girl, Max, Krystar, beeluvztin, FrannieGurl2006, anastasia, brittney, and infinitykat for your great reviews! Keep 'em coming! Also, I might want to add, Debbie Travis has her own TV show, The Painted House. She is a wonderful designer. She does such cool stuff...not all that modern crap you see today which is made 98% from pony-skin and costs 10 billion dollars. She makes mostly her own stuff. Her website is: [1]www.thepaintedhouse.com. I did not make her up.... just so you all know! *  
  
  
-That night-  
  
  
My room in the palace is going to be great. I can't wait until it's ready. Grandmere says she's going to take pictures of it when she goes back.  
  
To which I had to reply "GOING BACK?!".  
  
Her answer to that was, of course:  
  
  
"Yes Amelia, I have been in New York far too long. I must go back to Genovia in order to get things done! For a few weeks, however, your table manners are atrocious!"  
  
Let's hope the baggage handlers don't go on strike again. I sincerely hope they don't.  
  
After that, my Dad walked in and was all:  
  
  
"Dear Lord, Mother, if she hasn't got it by now she's never going to! What with you and your severe hollering!" (In a whiny voice) "Left foot-heeeeel toe. Point your toes. Heel toe, point, point, point!"  
  
  
When Dad gets pissed off, he reeeeeeeeeally shows it.  
  
  
-Next Morning, homeroom-  
  
  
This morning, I woke up to the sound of Fat Louie coughing up a hairball.  
  
Only he didn't stop after the hairball came out. He coughed and coughed until Mr. G. came into my room and whacked him on the butt. This only caused him to cough up some blood, and collapse. At the moment he is at the Greenwich Village Animal Care Unit, probably having some expensive surgery being done to him. Or he could be dead.  
  
  
I wanted to come with Mom, only she said I couldn't. Mr. G. sided with her, saying it would be just that more difficult for me, having to wait in the waiting room.Routine, Routine, and more Rountine is what I need. Mr. G couldn't go either. He has an eleventh grade advanced math course he just has to get to. Mom said she'd page Lars if and when anything bad or good happens.  
  
  
And to think yesterday I was positively psyched for Grandmere's vacation.  
  
  
I think I could cry.  
  
  
-At home-  
  
  
Fat Louie requires a long stay in the pet care unit. He ruptured a throat valve, or something like that. All I know is that for the first time since I was 6, I have no little kitty with me.  
  
  
Think of all the kitty-massages I have given him, all the cans of seafood feast I have fed to him.  
  
  
If there are bumps at the bottom of my page, it is only because I am crying.......even as I write this.  
  
  
I'm too sad to do anything. I think I'll call Lilly....or Michael.  
  
*A/N: I am sorry for the sad one, I'll update Saturday. If I don't, I give full permission for sad, sad, reviews!*  
  
References  
  
1. http://www.thepaintedhouse.com/ 


	5. Grandmere

*Ok everyone, I have a few questions to answer.  
  
1. Qtsugar- He he he...I got a hold of book three in my devious, devious ways. Not illegally, however. *Lol* yeah, so anyways, I ordered it online. I can't tell you where, that's no fun!  
2. Eiknlng- don't worry... I probably won't kill him. And if I do, it will be in a humane way.  
  
Thanks to everyone else for their fabulous reviews!!!!!!!! Keep em' coming!!!! *  
  
-The Next Day-  
  
There's still no Louie news.  
  
And to think, two weeks ago I was worried about him drinking out of the Christmas tree bowl. I even put a dish with water to discourage him from drinking it.  
  
And Michael is gone to Columbia for a weekend of astrophysics.  
  
On the other hand, Grandmere is leaving tomorrow. She's coming back in four weeks. She's excited about a big bill they're trying to pass. Something about Secure references for immigration from terrorist-high countries. She really wants to get on the terrorist prevention scene so she can become friends with Laura Bush.  
  
And I really do think she wants to cut down on terrorism. Two Genovians have died as a result of the 9/11 attacks.  
  
Life without Louie is like...well...I can't describe it. It's horrible.  
  
I wrote an ode to Louie.  
  
Here it is.  
  
Ode To Louie  
  
To the dearest Louie of them all,  
  
My pretty calico colored fuzzball,  
  
The happiest cat,  
  
(Though not an acrobat,)  
  
Your careless days,  
  
Must to our dismays,  
  
Could be gone in a scoff,  
  
As the result of one little cough.  
  
I'll never forget,  
  
My cute little pet,  
  
In all of the years,  
  
To becoming yet.  
  
Your silken waves of fur,  
  
Your low and deep purr,  
  
I'll never get back,  
  
If life soon you'll lack.  
  
I need to sleep.  
  
There's nothing else for me now, nothing but Michael.  
  
And Lilly.  
  
-That Night-  
  
There's been nothing to write about.  
  
I went out with Michael yesterday.  
  
Louie is on life support. He needs a lung transplant.  
  
The thing about cats is, they don't need a cat lung. They can have a dog, or some form of rodent lung. Just not a human one, it's too big.  
  
I'm going to visit him for the first time in an hour. I think I may die to see him hooked up to those machines.  
  
-The next morning, the loft-  
  
Grandmere let me skip Princess Lessons yesterday. They really weren't princess lessons, we were just going to have tea at the Plaza.  
  
I think she's going through second menopause.  
  
She never liked Louie.  
  
Numerous times she tried to get me to give him away.  
  
-She said that cats suck out your breath when you sleep.  
  
-She said if I ever brought him near her she'd make a Louie-skin coat for Rommel out of him.  
  
But she was there. She was in the lobby. She waited with me.  
  
-She paid the bill, and said to the doctors to keep him there on life support until I said to take him off, or unless he gets better.  
  
-She also said she'll pray for the latter. 


	6. A sappy, sorry day.

*I don't have much to say, this is a double chapter*  
  
-That afternoon-  
  
Michael came to visit. He's such a dear. He didn't even mention my lack of showering and deodorant application.  
  
He brought my homework. He tried to help me, but I just wasn't interested.  
  
He also wanted to know if I wanted to help him grocery shop. Because Maya is off sick, that is his chore.  
  
At first I thought it would take my mind off it, trying to persuade him not to buy any meats or obviously (yet un-labeled) genetically modified foods.  
  
Grocery shopping is fun. All we ever do here at the loft is order out.  
  
But then I remembered.  
  
In grade two, we went for a tour of the grocery store for a filed trip. Outside the Grocery store were a box of kittens, and an old, old man trying to sell them. That sent me in a inundation of tears.  
  
Tina came to visit, too. She said she had some important news, but I didn't feel like listening.  
  
-That Night-  
  
Michael has been calling and calling. He sent a dozen yellow roses to my house. He has offered to do my homework for me, so I don't have to worry about it.  
  
Trust me Michael, I'm not worrying about no homework.  
  
It also happens to be Friday. I turned on Lilly Tells it like it is. It's the one where we went around the Village and video taped un-seen acts of goodness that today's urban youth have been doing.  
  
It took my mind off Fat Louie. For once in four days, I wasn't worrying about him.  
  
But now I am.  
  
-The next DAY!!!-  
  
Michael is my GOD.  
  
He's single handedly saving Fat Louie's life.  
  
Okay, here's how it went.  
  
My Mom woke me up this morning. She said I had to get up, shower (she put an emphasis on that) and go for a walk. She said I needed the exercise. I was too sad, so she had Mr. G. (FRANK, FRANK, FRANK, FRANK, FRANK; I DON'T TAKE ALGEBRA ANY MORE, SO FRANK, FRANK, FRANK, FRANK, FRANK!!!!)  
  
He picked me up, and locked me in the bathroom. I took a shower, found a fairly un-wrinkled blouse, and ate breakfast.  
  
Lilly came over, and took me out for a walk. I was feeling only a little bit better, then.  
  
She told me something that I thought I was going to cry about.  
  
She said Pavlov was in the Animal Hospital. He'd gotten of leash yesterday and was hit by a car.  
  
But she said he was fine. She mentioned something about him having to stay the night last night.  
  
I immediately suggested we go down there. Which, we did.  
  
When we did, I had the biggest surprise of my life.  
  
Michael was holding Fat Louie. Fat Louie was not hooked up to any machines anymore.  
  
"They found a match late last night. A poodle with a very bad arthritic hip was put down."  
  
He said, with a smile.  
  
I was speechless. Not for the first time in my life. But still, I was speechless.  
  
He passed Fat Louie to me. "Careful, he's still got stitches."  
  
I hugged Fat Louie and burrowed my nose into his warm, soft fur.  
  
"But, don't they have to have my permission? Doesn't somebody have to say yes to the operation??"  
  
Then it hit me.  
  
Grandmere. She said yes.  
  
"Come on Mia," Lilly said, "Let's go home."  
  
And we did, in a Limo outside with a kennel in it. 


End file.
